


plain and simple

by k0skareeves



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, First Kiss, Romance, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, also the zombies are called walkers, because i love the walking dead, maybe a bit ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k0skareeves/pseuds/k0skareeves
Summary: Tumblr prompt: "Help me move these boxes."
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 82





	plain and simple

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreams_for_spring](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreams_for_spring/gifts).



> To the lovely Katharine. Thank you so much for the prompt, darling! Hope you enjoy 💜

"Help me move these boxes."

Jon's voice is no more than a whisper, but Sansa hears him just fine in the quiet of the room. Her breath is still caught on her throat from their run, adrenaline making her jumpy, the growling from outside keeping her alert. Jon's shoulder is pressed against the door, and he doesn't move until she places the first sealed box in front of him. One after the other, they keep stacking up the boxes until they form a man sized barrier, helping keep the door sealed from the dead.

Only then does Sansa stop to look around. They're inside some storage room, small yet with just enough space to fit their sleeping bags side by side. There's no windows, and she thinks that soon it will start feeling suffocating despite the cold temperature, but it’s clear and the door is holding, so they can’t complain. Sansa doesn't know the months anymore, doesn't keep track of the week days, but it's winter outside, the snow lasting all night just two days ago, making their car give its last breath, which forced them to continue their journey on foot. That had been the start of their bad luck, leading to their current situation: trapped inside an old office building full of walkers, two guns lost on the run to safety which almost cost Sansa her life.

She shudders at the thought. Jon seems to remember as well, because he crouches down in front of her, tugging her pants up unceremoniously to check on her ankle and calf. His grip on her is strong, his hands warm on her skin and yet she feels herself shiver from his touch.

"I'm fine, Jon." She says. He doesn't stop, fishing a small flashlight from one of his many pockets to better look at her leg. Sansa lets him, not because she lacks the strength to pull herself from his grasp, but because she knows this inspection is the one thing delaying Jon from the lecture he’ll surely give her.

It takes him another minute, but he drops his hands and stands, not bothering to look at her while walking to the nearest wall and dropping his bag there. He begins unpacking their gear quietly, checking for any damage without saying a word to her. _Great,_ she thinks, _the silent treatment again._ This is worse than a lecture. Sansa huffs at his behavior, but it's not like she's not used to it. They've been on the road together for a while, and it's been several months since it's just the two of them. Jon's brooding is nothing new to Sansa, and his temper at her "recklessness" as he likes to call it is expected, but she won't be apologizing any time soon for getting back her gun. It's now the only one they have left, and in this world, a gun with a full cartridge might as well be the thing keeping you from certain death.

She should drop it, give him space to cool off, knowing that by morning his anger will die down to a mild annoyance. It’s the reasonable thing to do, yet she's tired, hungry and scared. She almost died. It was close, the closer it has been in a while, and if Jon hadn't been there with her she would be walker dinner by now. Adrenaline is still rushing through her veins, the sound of the walkers behind their makeshift barrier and an old wooden door has her speaking her mind at him without meaning to.

"Jon."

He keeps his back to her, hands busy with the contents of his backpack, not acknowledging her use of his name. She breathes out an exasperated sigh. "You can't be mad at me right now. I won't have it."

She watches as his shoulders drop, his hands stilling, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. For the next minute there's a palpable tension in the air, then he's on his feet, stepping closer to her, his words an angry whisper.

"Sansa, that was stupid and you know it."

His tone is harsh and his fists are clenched on his sides. He would be shouting at her if he could, she can tell. But even in the peak of anger, Jon never drops his guard, never forgets himself. He's always ready, always careful, hardly acting on impulse.

Unlike her.

It's usually why they fight.

"We need the gun, Jon.” She wants to shout at him too, but silence is essential here. “We couldn't afford to lose another."

"There's other guns out there. There's only one of you."

She feels a little something from his words but chooses to ignore it. "Yes, and there's only one of you too, and that's why we need to protect ourselves. Thus, guns are very much a necessity."

Jon takes a step forward, breathing heavily before speaking.  _ "I don’t care, Sansa. _ You need to stop risking your life for things that aren't important."

"I'm just trying to help you!"

"You can help me by staying alive."

"Look, I know it was close but I'm fine now so there's no need for you to spend the next two days angry with me."

"I'm not angry with you." He says, harshly. She could laugh if she wasn’t so mad.

"Well, it sure looks like you are from the way you're acting."

The flashlight ends up on the floor during their argument, casting a cool glow upon them. Sansa watches as Jon runs a hand through his hair. The dark curls are the longer she's ever seen them. He usually ties them in a bun but the leather string had broken during their run. She's been cutting his hair since they found each other, and she needs to do it again soon, once they're somewhere safe.  _ If there's still somewhere safe out there.  _ She keeps watching him in the faint light, his grey eyes giving her a look she doesn't really understand. There’s a shift in the air somehow, and he moves, closing the distance between them. Sansa has no time to speak before he cups her face with both hands, pressing their lips together.

It takes her by surprise, the kiss. Jon's beard scratches her skin. His lips are gentle, a contrast from the angry temper he was showing just seconds ago. His tongue darts out to taste her and she opens her lips for him, sighing into his mouth. Her hands move at their own will, one tugging at the curls on his nape, the other resting on his chest. She feels how fast his heart is beating under her palm.

They stay kissing, slowly, hungrily, for some time. Jon's right hand drops from her cheek, pressing at the small of her back, bringing her closer to him. She follows willingly, needing to be as close to him as she can. His hand boldly drops to her ass, giving it a squeeze and she whimpers, catching his lower lip between her teeth, not wanting the moment to end. Jon groans, loudly, and that seems to bring him to his senses.

He breaks the kiss, both of them panting, his hands still on her. His gaze is on her lips. Sansa knows she's blushing. She hasn't been kissed like this in a long time, not since life was still normal. Maybe not even then, not with this much passion, nothing that felt like Jon's kiss. 

His thumb gently caresses her cheek, a moment of silence before he speaks again. "I'm not angry with you."

She doesn't know what to say, so she simply nods.

He looks her in the eye now. "I need you to stop risking your life for things that don’t matter. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, I'll stop risking my life for things that aren't important."

He smirks at her, his eyes dropping to her lips one more time.  _ Kiss me,  _ she wants to say. But she keeps quiet and he doesn't kiss her again. Instead, he drops his hands and she misses him immediately. "Good. Now get your sleeping bag. I'll take the first watch."

He moves away, reaching down to grab the flashlight, his back to her once more. The words escape her lips before she has time to think.

"Jon?"

"Hm?"

"You matter to me."

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
